


Meet me on the Battlefield

by IvyofMirkwood



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, Captured, Caught, Commitment, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Falling In Love, Fighting, Fights, Hate to Love, Hiding, Hiding in Plain Sight, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Love/Hate, Original Character(s), Relationship Issues, Reluctent, Rough Sex, Searching, Trust Issues, Truth, Vaginal Fingering, commitment issues, love to hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-12 02:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13538070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyofMirkwood/pseuds/IvyofMirkwood
Summary: A tale of struggles and strife. A search among searches to seek his blood daughter. Everything was standing in his way, something seemed to go wrong at every turn. Another cold trail. Until he met an unlikely ally.Running, to live, to survive. Searching for him as he searches for her. To find safety, in a world that sought for her death. Hiding in plain sight was getting increasingly harder as the bounty on her head grew.He came here for a job, to find a cure. Instead he found her. She betrayed him. The traitor. And yet, against all odds he fell for her. And now she was gone again, because of him. Now in regret and guilt he searches for her, a search among searches to find his love.





	1. Blood of my blood

 

**Geralt**

Geralt paced through Kaer Morhen throwing back as much vodka his body would allow and then some. Words past through his lips, mumbled and incoherent.

How many mutations had he been through? How many trails and experiments has he allowed people to do. Most, if not all failures. So, why now? Why this one?

Geralt let out a deafening scream frustrated; throwing the bottle across the room, it crashed against the far end shattering along the wall falling in tiny crystal like pieces.

‘How long has he been drinking?’ The dark haired sorceress asked, eyeing the three Witchers by her side.

‘Ever since he returned I’m afraid,’ Vesmir sighed, scratching at his chin thoughtfully wondering what all of this could have been about.

‘All he’s said, that isn't mumbled screaming, “why this one, why now.” It is all we can make out," Eskel informed, watching Geralt who was pacing back and forth. 

They advanced on the angry Witcher with as much stealth, and caution as one would have approached an angry wyvern with. ‘Geralt,’ Yennefer began keeping her distance, ‘I understand you-’

‘Understand? How can you understand , none of you could possibly know.’ Geralt raged, his words slurred in his drunken stupor as he drained another bottle further.

‘Then tell us, help us to understand. We realize you are angry but you must speak with us.’

Soundlessly he pulled out his trophy dagger from his belt throwing it to the table, it stuck standing upright among the papers that were strewn covering every inch of the wood.

‘Whoa, now she’s a beautiful elf,’ Lambert smirked as he neared the table looking where the dagger had fallen. ‘You know such beauty would not usually be the call for such anger.’ Lambret elbowed Eskel smirking mischievously.

‘Beauty! You keep your hands away from her!’ Geralt yelled, striding towards the young witcher grasping him by the throat Geralt pinned Lambert to the stone cold walls, his fist tightening around his neck.

‘Enough,’ Vesmir and Eskel pulled the Witchers apart, Geralt went crashing to the floor utterly defeated.

‘She's mine,’ Geralt tried to explain, still trying to wrap his own mind around everything that was happening. ‘She’s my daughter, my own flesh and blood.’

‘That's not possible, Witchers are infertile,’ Vesmir shook his head at his dear friend, too much vodka.

‘Yes, and no. Awhile back I made a deal with a couple of guys they were trying an experiment, testing trying to prove he could change ones fertility," Geralt began what was a long tale, ‘I thought why not, nothing has ever come from such foolishness, still it was worth the pay for the potions he wanted me to drink.’

The others listened intently as Geralt explained everything to them, every detail of what happened until the anger.

‘So, why the anger, if your aren't mad at the fact that your a father then what? There has to be more,’ Eskel pushed his Witcher companion for more information.

‘There is, with this picture of her arrived a letter. A letter from her mother, one, who I can only assume is now dead. They were in Velen, from what I can gather the small village was raided, she tried to give her a sketching of myself so she’d know who she was looking sent her running into the woods to escape. They spent her life so far hiding They had little to go on and have been searching for me to help. Now she is out there possibly alone, somewhere in this world still looking.’

‘Did this letter say anything as to why she is wanted, something that might be a clue,’ Vesmir pushed on, picking up the picture looking at the black and white sketching.

‘Nothing-’

‘Perhaps some sort of tracking spell,’ Yennefer offered, she could think of a couple that may come in helpful. ‘If not able to pinpoint her location well at least be able to get a generalized area.’

Geralt sat upon the floor the room spinning hardly able to think straight.

‘I'm not sure what is going on, but in either case there is some explaining to do,’ Triss Marigold had finally arrived to the Witcher’s home at last, interrupting the others conversation.

‘What are you talking about, Marigold?’ Lambert asked with raised eyebrows, waiting for her reaction.

Triss held back a sigh of annoyance, he always knew how much she hated being called Marigold.  ‘Travelling here turned into more of an adventure then perhaps needed. In all honesty I, at first, thought it was one of you would be on you way to deal with it, but seeing as you are all here...’

‘What exactly are you talking about?’

‘There is a village having problems with one, I had over heard a Witcher picked up a contract in the area apparently solved their problem but a few weeks later it arose again turns outs this Witcher never actually completed the contract at all, though he took the villagers money so they can't afford to deal with the creature again. Many in the area are claiming missing goods, by the looks of things I’d say they’d stolen from the towns folk as well.’

‘Where is this town? And you thought one of us we be so low?’  Lambert snapped enraged, they had more honour those of the school of the wolf held themselves to the code.

‘Now, hold on,’ Vesimir interrupted, ‘It could be a Witcher from one of the other schools.’

‘Sounds like someone out of the School of the Cat.”

The Witchers looked back and forth wondering it themselves though held hope that no true Witcher would fake a contract in such ways.

Geralt growled, he knew despite all this was a serious matter as well but damn it so was his, more even, he had a daughter out there. His own flesh and blood, Geralt refused to let his mind linger on it any longer without acting, he was a father and she was out there and in danger. He stood, determination taking over his entire body, ‘Yen, could you?’

Yennefer nodded without hesitation knowing what it was he was asking. Yennefer took a step back from the table as she finished.

‘What is it?’ Geralt demanded, standing tall he leaned over the table. ‘Where is she?’

‘Novigrad, it would seem.’

‘Then I leave for Novigrad,’ Geralt stood straightening one of his many belts.

‘First, you sober up. Then you leave,’ Yennefer insisted, pushing him back down on to the bench.

* * *

 

**Iorveth**

Rage coursed through his body. After everything he’d done for her, this was her repayment? Damn her! The traitor.

His eyes scanned the forest, glimpsing between the trees. Pulling his lips into a thin line, he bent low examining the ground, her trail was fresh. He’d catch her, bring her back. Make her pay for taking advantage of him. Taking his bow from his back readying his hand he took off at a brisk pace, with a wave of his hand he called out to his fellow elves, ‘Scoia'tael!’

They followed, as they would followed their commander anywhere. Their light elven footsteps fell silently upon the mossy floor, keeping pace following the tracks it wasn’t long until they found her standing tall beside a Witch Hunter. Iorveth slowed crouching low to the ground, growling nocking an arrow ready to remove her from this world, he’d deal with the Witch Hunter afterwards.

About to release the arrow aimed directly at her neck, fingers slipping from the string when a flash of silver slashed mere inches from his face. A group of Witch Hunters attacked them from behind. Pirouetting on his knee avoiding a second attack, Iorveth sprang to his feet forcing himself to forget her for now.

‘Kill the remaining Hunter’s. Her, her I want back alive,’ Iorveth gave the order, looking for his first in command. ‘Echel!’

‘Captured,’ An elf by the name of Cedric informed, coming to stand beside his commander dragging the traitor with him.

‘We return to camp,’ the Commander ordered, turning on his heel ignoring the half-elf on the ground.

* * *

 

Iorveth paced within his tent, he watched her with her head hung low looking to the ground. His eyes ran along the full length of her body

Damn her. He wanted nothing more than to see her suffer, despite everything.

‘You!’

Her eyes glanced upwards though they did not meet his.

‘Damn it, I trusted you. Helped you flee and hide. Allowed you a place in my commando despite…’

‘Despite what?’ She cut him off, ‘Being a freak, an outcast to both elves, and dh’oine. You never had to help me,’ she raged jerking away from the post she was tied to, a metal chain clinking again the buckles of her torn leather coat.

Iorveth lunged forward grasping a handful of her chestnut hair twisting it around his fist. Teeth clenched, breathing ragged he forced her to look in his eyes. ‘Yes, despite it all and this is how you repay me. I know the bounty on your head, here in Novigrad.’

‘No more than yours.’

Iorveth said nothing. He clenched his jaw, tugging her hair back a little further his eyes searching hers. Searching for what, he did not know.

Answers. Truth.

Sorrow.

Guilt, for what she had done to him.

Something, something he wasn’t willing to admit.

Damn it.

He closed the distance between them in a instant, feeling the warmth of her lips move with his. A moan. His? Hers? Biting her bottom lip, he moved his hand from her hair to her hips. Pushing her body against the wooden post, pushing himself closer rubbing his length against her thigh. A growl vibrated in the back of his throat, wrapping his hand around her neck running his thumb along her jawline.

Her. She was all that mattered, in this moment. Who was he kidding, she was all that mattered everyday, for a long time now. She was all that mattered, until now.

Another deep throaty growl escaped his lips.

Pleasure? Frustration?

His hand grasped the side of her face before flinging her away.  He spun his body away, and back to her picking up his bow in a single fluid, swift motion.

‘You…you!’ Breathlessly he nocked an arrow, watching as her breasts rose and fell with her own heavy breathing. ‘Damn you, I should kill you for what you’ve done.’

‘Then kill me, Iorveth,’ she breathed out helplessly knowing if not now, soon. ‘If not you, another will. Its only a matter of time before death catches up to me.’

He said nothing, lowering the bow, reaching forwards he ripped the metal chain from around her neck. She spun her head away, hiding her face from view. Iorveth wrapped the chain around fingers, looking on as her once chestnut hair faded to silvery gray, watched as her flawless skin became riddled with scars, her arm mutilated, heavily scarred from fire.

She felt the cool metal under her chin as Iorveth cupped her face turning her to look at him, his fingers tracing the fresh pink scar that ran from her right eyebrow over her eye and cheek ending at the corner of her lips.

He traced it with a gentleness, in a silent apology. A scar he had given her. A sigh past their lips, at the feeling of one another’s touch, at the memories that lingered on their minds. Memories of their first meeting, he’d done this to her, when he had every intention then of killing her. Now. Now, he was not so sure he could.

Iorveth dropped his forehead against hers, ‘Why you?’

His whispers were spoken to no one. He spoke them purely to hear his conflict outwardly, as though it would help his ragging internal conflict.

‘Look at me.’ It was meant to be a command, but something about seeing her. The true her. Not the one masked and covered in illusions. It always seemed to make him weak. He braced himself as her eyes fluttered open, bright yellow slits, mirroring that of a cat stared back up at him.

‘Iorveth, I-’ Her voice shook, in fear for what he’d do her after her betrayal, in her own desire, and lust for the elf before her.

‘Tell me, why. Why did you do it?’ His voice was low. He needed answers. He pulled away from her, turning his back on her as she began to speak.

‘He promised to lift the bounty on my head. He promised me information on my father. It’s what I’ve spent my whole life searching for, I have to know. I need help, Iorveth, help you can’t give me.’ 

‘And you trusted them.’ Iorveth said in an almost mocking tone. The anger, and betrayal, raging through his veins. ‘You walked yourself to your own death. The bounty is sure to rise on your head after this.’

‘After what?’ Nova’s voice wavered in uncertainty at his words, clueless to his train of thought.

‘Don’t you see? We won the fight, in the end, they wanted me. The Witch Hunters, Menge, will think you tipped us off. Lured them into to the trap and not us, you double crossed them, little one, and it’ll be the death of you. A slow, agonizingly painful death.’

She growled out, gnashing her teeth at the ruthless elf before her, ‘So you admit your going to hand me over to them.’

Iorveth shrugged, keeping his back turned. Damn him. Clenching his hand into a fist he brought it to his lips, biting down on his knuckles suppressing a growl. 

‘Fine, do what you will, leave me for dead but just remember I know which house you stay in in the Pits.’

Iorveth whipped around hand coming to her face squeezing her jaw painfully, eliciting a gasp from her. ‘You are in no position to be threatening me.’

Iorveth made the mistakes of looking down at those soft, full lips. The locket. He thought suddenly, looking to the ground where he had discarded it. Bending low, to replace it around her neck, he always had more control when she looked more like her dh’oine half, or so he told himself. His eyes caught glimpses of her creamy skin through rips in her attire as he bent lower to the ground.

‘Damn you,’ Iorveth raged straightening himself back taking her face in his hands, forgetting about the locket on the ground. ‘You’ll pay for your betrayal-’

‘Fuck off.’

His hands slid from the side of her face, one wrapping its self around her neck squeezing neck, as he crashed his lips back on to hers. What made him do it, he wasn’t sure. In a flash he’d drawn his dagger slicing through her bounds. In that instant there was a flurry of hands, her hands flew to his shoulders pushing him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the table. Trailing hands running down the length of his arms, she removed all traces of his gambeson. His hands fell upon her hips spinning her around pushing her body against the table, he would not be over powered.

He moaned pulling her down to ground with him, straddling her body he tore the remainder of  fabric from her body pinning her hands above her head. With a hand firmly on her hips, their eyes boring into each other, he positioned himself at her entrance teasing her. She moaned as he pushed himself in, gritting his teeth in pleasure as she hummed in appreciation. Moaning her eyes started to lose focus, fluttering closed. He allowed it. She was wet... soaking wet and panting. He adjusted his position, releasing her hands.

 Nova gasped, unsure how to handle the sensations assaulting her. Her hands fell upon his shoulders, digging into his skin she clawed the lengths of his arms leaving reddened scratches behind. Iorveth clenched his teeth at the feeling, letting out a throaty growl at the pain mixed with pleasure.

 The pleasure built and built until it reached it's peak, and suddenly it jumped to new heights as an orgasm overtook her.

She heard his voice through her pleasurable haze, ‘Keep your eyes open, look at me!’

She did her best to comply as he wrung every drop of pleasure out of her until she couldn't handle the blinding onslaught, her loud moans turning into breathless screams. Iorveth never seized his movements, enjoying the sound of her pleasured cries, the way her body squirmed beneath him, how  her hands jumped from pushing against his chest willingly him to stop, to grasping, squeezing his forearms unable to bare the pleasures that drove her mad. Iorveth growled out, enjoying his own release as he watched her come down from a second orgasm.

 Watching her come was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and by far the most arousing.

Iorveth stood readjusting clothing before gathering his gambeson off the ground, keeping his back turned from the beautiful half- elf laying completely spent upon his floor.

Iorveth heard her moving about as she gathered her red cloak, the only remaining piece she had left in one piece.

‘Iorveth, I-’ She began placing a hand upon his shoulder.

‘Get out of here,’ Iorveth spoke, in an eerily calm tone without turning to look back at her, he shook her hand from his body. What had he done?

‘What,’ she demanded, wrapping the cloak around her body tighter.

‘Get out of here now,’ his voice rose, his hand found its way to his bow once more.

‘Give me my chain back and I will leave,’ She demanded shaking her head in fury, pulling her lips into a thin line.

Iorveth glanced at the necklace in his hand, he’d not realized he’d picked up lifting his chin higher he spoke, ‘No, the chain I will be keeping.’

‘Without it, I… you know what that will mean, if I’m seen.’

‘I know.’

‘So kill me yourself then, just get it over with. Damn it, look at me.’

‘I can’t. I won’t.’

‘So what, your not even going to look at me, and turn me away. Like this? Leave me to be caught, tortured and killed in his hands.’

He said nothing for a moment as if thinking it over, just when she thought he might change his mind he yelled interrupting her thoughts. ‘Leave!’ He screamed spinning on his heel finally looking at her, stepping towards her threateningly. ‘Out! Get out of my sight.’

Pulling her hood up she strode out, keeping her head down as she left.

Iorveth shook his head looking to the necklace in hand, growling he threw across the room.

That’s it. It was done, he would never see her again. She was gone.

He relieved himself of his lingering desires for her. Why did he still want her then?

Damn her.

She betrayed him, set him up. He should have been able to kill her, like he killed so many others before. Iorveth screamed out punching the wall beside him. Every accursed feeling he ever had for her, was still there despite everything she had done to him.

She should have been nothing to him, just a traitor, but in truth she wasn’t. And it scared the hell out of him.


	2. Chapter 2

 

**Geralt**

Geralt followed the path through the thickest part of the forest on the outskirts of Novigrad, heading towards the vast city’s centre Yennefer tracking spell led him, there had to be someone, some sort or clue he could find. Roach whinnied, her mane blowing in the wind she shook her head, nervously flicking her ears.

‘Axii,’ Geralt whispered under his breath, casting the sign with his hand calming the chestnut mare. Sliding from the saddle eyes searching the area, boots splashing in the muddy waters as he landed upon the mossy earth. A hand reached behind him wrapping around out the hilt of his silver blade, as his eyes landed on the lithe, elven forms lingering in the trees above, bows nocked and at the ready.

‘Vatt'ghern, what’s your business in these woods?’

‘To leave it. I merely look to make my way through, I seek a half-elf here in Novigrad,’ Geralt called out to the elf that had jumped down from limb.

The elf scoffed a sneer forming against his lips, ‘Novigrad is not safe for any non-humans.’ The elf warned the Witcher, lowing his bow replacing the arrow back in its quiver.

‘That I know, I seek her-’ Geralt pushed on producing the portrait from an inside pocket of his gambeson.

‘Leave that heal-elf be she is cursed. Nothing good will come of finding her, for you or any other.’

‘Cursed?’ Geralt wondered out loud, narrowing his eyes. Novigrad was the only lead he had on finding his daughter. ‘Is there any around here who knows more?’

‘It is possible.’

‘Take me to them.’ Geralt ordered firmly, slashing his hand through the air.

‘Your weapons. I cannot let you keep them.’

‘I keep my swords. I seek this elf, I need all the information I can get. You will lead me to who can provide this information but my swords remaining with me.’

The elf sucked in his lip thinking as he furrowed his brow, ‘Very well, Vatt’ghern, follow me.’

* * *

 

‘Gwynbleidd, what is your business in Novigrad?’

‘I could ask you the same thing, Iorveth?’ Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow a small smirk upon his face.

Iorveth paced back and forth within his tent his bow in hand, the commander, always and forever at the ready. ‘We came seeking the cure for the Catriona plague. I have heard it can be found in the hands of one, Hector Kraft Ebbing, a rogue Nilfgaardian scientist, also known as Martin.’ Iorveth informed his old friend, he trusted him once before and he had not let him down, this time Iorveth was sure he could rely on him again.

Geralt nodded, ‘You think you can get this information from the Nilfgaard?’

‘It isn’t by chance we meet, Gwynbleidd.’ Iorveth spoke raising his chin high, sure the Witcher would help him.

Geralt nearly sighed outwardly, ‘I will help you, Iorveth, but…’ Iorveth nodded his head thankful. ‘I seek a girl from here in Novigrad, have reason to believe she was seen in the small village at the edge of these woods, a half elf, though your warriors claim she is cursed.’

Geralt picked up on Iorveth shift in mode watching as he clenched his jaw. ‘The village or the elf?’ Iorveth asked heading out of the tent he led the Witcher through the woods walking as he talked. 

‘The elf,’ Geralt answered, following the Scoia'tael leader’s steps.

Iorveth stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look the Witcher in the eye. A half elf, the masses claim were cursed. That could only lead to one. His fist clenched tightly, knuckles turning white. She was a half elf. His half elf and he forced her to leave, without protection, she was probably dead by now. ‘Stop your search, Gwynbleidd, she’s probably dead by now.’

‘I will not stop, I must find her. I will find her.’ Geralt insisted firmly.

‘Who has this contract on her. Are you to see to her death? Lift her supposed cursed? Doubtful. As a half elf, she’s wanted dead, isn’t she? Menge, then?’ His voice took on a sorrow tone, though he masked it expertly with anger looking away a head to the stream that lay in front of them now.

‘This is no contract, Iorveth. Look, it is clear you know something more. Do you know where I can find her? Speak, this is of great importance to me.’

‘Why? Who is she to?’ Iorveth demanded, his fist still clenching at his side.

Geralt sighed, ‘Where to begin…’ Geralt started the tale once more, quickly, rushing his words as he spoke this time.

‘Your daughter?’

Geralt nodded, ‘So, I have to find her. I heard she searches for me, that she needs my help. And while I may not yet know her, I will try and find her to help.’

Iorveth looked away walking around the side of the stream, ‘She seeks you, well, that explains the eyes.’ He almost let his guard down and smiled, almost but didn’t.

‘What? Tell me what you know.’ Geralt urged for more information, if people around here, for some reason think she was cursed, then she was not safe. Iorveth himself assumes her death a possibly.

‘Go through the Bits and you find those there who speak of one who is cursed, say she walks the woods at night, wearing a red cloak hood pulled up, eyes that glow like a wolf. They say she wears the cloak to hid the fur the covers body, that she is more beast than man. By day she walks the streets enchantingly beautiful, eyes so blue they mirror a sparkling stream, chestnut hair that cascades in soft waves down her shoulders.’ Iorveth finished with a sigh, halting his steps looking towards the small stream. ‘They say she draws men into the woods by her beauty during the day, confuses them, leaves them lost in the woods, and then by nightfall when she turns she preys on those lured into woods.’

‘Do you really believe these tales?’ Geralt sighed exasperatedly.

‘Believe me, Gwynbleidd, when I say they are both true and false. I have seen her. Both the beauty, and the beast that these villagers speak of,’ Iorveth spoke, his eyes betraying him of his fondness. ‘She wore an enchanted amulet to change her appearance, kept her hidden and safer within the town. Allowing her to hide what she truly looks like, for she has a bounty on her head, a bounty that is marked to her looks as they truly are. She has eyes like a Witcher-’

‘You mean…’ Geralt interrupted surprised, they had left this detail out in the drawing but if she was in danger, a bounty on her head perhaps that was intentional.

‘Aye, eyes like yellow slits. No different then your own, it was that very feature that made people claim they glowed in the night with the wolves, of course humans must spin tales some. The red cloak is nothing for there lies no fur to be hidden. She has killed within these woods, she for a time had a place in my commando.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘Of that I cannot be certain. Logic would say death finally caught up to her, but…’ Iorveth’s eyes wondered slowly around the clearing, fidgeting with his gloves. ‘She was always one to survive.’

‘Iorveth?’ Geralt began, picking up the changing tone in his voice the way he became increasingly fidgety, anxious. ‘Your leaving something out.’

Iorveth nodded without even thinking, he could of lied but who was he kidding the Witcher would know it. The Witcher had his ways.

‘She and I… and she - I lost it.’

Geralt raised an eyebrow, ‘Perfect sense.’

Iorveth growled. ‘Damn it! You don’t understand. She was, is…’ he growled again, punching a nearby tree. ‘She betrayed me! Lead my warriors and myself straight into the Hunters hands. Damn the traitorous vixen. I’d brought her back after we won the fight, she’d pay for her betrayal. I should have killed her then, damn it all to hell I should have killed her when my eyes first landed upon those cursed silver locks.’

‘That wouldn’t have ended well for you,’ Geralt informed calmly keeping his composure as he always did. ‘So, why didn’t you? What halted that famously dangerous hand of yours.’

‘Fate, perhaps. I will not lie to you, Gwynbleidd, I tried to kill her, my dagger connected with her face but..’ Iorverth recalled flexing his fingers, recalling the feeling of the dagger in hand connecting with her flesh. With a sigh he unclenched his fist, he began from the start, ‘There we were making our way into the Bits of Novigrad, a meeting with one Zoltan Chivay he had information on where we could find someone who knows the where abouts of the Nilffgaardian scientist.’

Geralt nodded his head listening intently to the elf speak, making a mental note to seek out Zoltan if he was indeed in Novigrad, in hopes that he may have information for he to may have heard or seen her around.

‘When we came across them, my warriors had the rest killed kept her purely for informations sake.’

‘You interrogated my daughter,’ Geralt snapped, interrupting the elf.

‘Well…yes. One could easily hear the bombardment of dh’oine coming our way, as the last of my warriors leapt into the trees out of view, should we need to attack, to give us the advantage.We were still too near our encampment it became a clear threat. It was then that that dh’onie of yours crashed into me…’ Iorveth began thinking back to his and Nova’s first encounter.

* * *

 

Iorveth stumbled sneering as he grasped the culprit by the arm, fighting with her momentarily, a power struggle as she tried to free herself to keep running. To escape both Iorveth and the Witch Hunter’s that chased her down.

‘Please,’ her voice pleaded desperately with him, stopping the struggling seeing how futile it was after a moment.

‘You led these dh’oine here? You one of their spy’s?’ His voice bite out harsh, and blunt his face leering near hers, as he hit her hand away as she struggled with the necklace around her neck

‘No! I swear.’

‘Iorveth!’ An elf called to his commander, heading their way to report.

Iorveth’s gripped loosened slightly turning to the sound of his fellow warrior, Nova took advantage of his slackened grip freeing herself she took off running. ‘I don’t think so,’ Iorveth drew his dagger taking off after her. ‘You will not be escaping me,’ he sneered leering over her as she tripped on a root, exhausted from the trials she already met, he attacked with his dagger, though she dodged, rolling out of the way he hit his mark.

A scream echoed around the forest air, Iorveth sneered down at the bloody, woman lying at his feet clutching her face.

‘The rest have been dealt with, all are dead.’ Iorveth’s first in command Echel reported, catching up with them.

‘Good, this one we take back for information, then she will meet her end.’

‘I know nothing, please.’

‘Radovid seeks to have all non-humans killed, and you just happen to show up with his Hunters in tow, here with you,’ Iorveth scoffed disbelievingly. ‘You return with us, and you will speak, then… and only then will I end your pathetic life, dh’oine.’

Iorveth dragged her away to his tents, tying her to post he rested his bow on a near by table.

‘Listen, I have nothing to do with Radovid-’

‘Silence, dh’oine! You will not speak unless I have deemed it necessary or you feel inclined to let information known of his plans, and or where abouts.’ Iorveth ordered nodding approvingly as she said nothing more, only dropping her head down with a sigh.

**Nova**

Head hung low, she suppressed a sigh. From one prison to another. With a glance upwards through the strands of hair blocking her view, she watched as the elven leader paced before her.

‘Stitch her face, she’s useless to me dead or weak of blood loss,’ his words were blunt, and cruel to the elven healer that entered the commanders tent.

Stifled gasps escaped her lips at the pain, and stabbing of the needle piercing through her skin in a rhythmic pattern. She never moved just hung there staring at the ground as the elf finished the stitches and left.

‘How did you learn of the location of our encampment?’

‘I didn’t know, anyone was out this way,’ she pleaded, tensing up as a blow landed to her abdomen. The metallic taste of her own blood lingering in her mouth, tickling her face and neck as it ran down in thick streams.

He scoffed, ‘No, so then you wouldn’t have known we were out to meet a contact.’

‘No!’ She grimaced, her yells tugging painfully against her newly stitched face.

Another blow. Another painful groan escaped her lips, as her vision blurred. From pain. Tears. From the slow, creepy grasp of unconsciousness.

‘How long?’ She whispered, blinking her eyes rapidly trying to keep herself from falling into the abyss.

‘How long for what?’ He sneered inches from her face in disgust.

‘How long are you to keep me here?’

‘You tell me, what I want to know and then it’ll be your death. You will never leave here, dh’oine.’

Slowly she looked up into the elf’s green eyes, ‘Kill me then. I know not what you seek, I have nothing for you.’

‘You expect me to believe that.’

‘No.’ Nova answered defeated.

Letting her head fall though Iorveth was far too fast for her, catching her by the neck in an iron grip. Nova shifted uncomfortably on the ground as he forced her head higher. ‘Speak!’

‘I know nothing,’ She pleaded.

His lips twisted in a sneer, growling in frustration he yanked the necklace painfully form her neck eliciting a gasp.Glancing down at the metal chain he quirked a brow, ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ He yelled, the venom dripping from his voice as he flung the chain across the tent. ‘Don’t think for a second-’ his voice halted the second he turned back to look at her.

‘Please-’

‘Silence!’

She obeyed. Waiting. Hoping.

Iorveth gave his head a light shake. Taking in her ashen hair, her scarred form, looking up into her eyes he stumbled back as he looked into her yellow slitted eyes, and peeking out through her hair were the light points of her ears. ‘A half elf,’ He noted to himself, ‘and a Vatt’ghern.’

‘A what?’ She rushed her words out before he could interrupt her once more.

‘A Witcher,’ Iorveth said, walking behind he released her of her bounds. ‘What is your name, Vatt’ghern?’

‘Nova.’ Standing tall, rubbing at her wrists she continued, ‘Though a Witcher, I am not.’

‘It is clear to see, you have the eyes of a Witcher’s, you needn’t lie. I have worked with two Witcher’s before, one I may dare to call an ally.’

‘Yet, all Witcher’s were taken as children to their schools, trained, put through the trails. Anyone, who knows anything of such beings knows that.’ Iorveth nodded in agreement. ‘I have done nor been put through neither.’

‘That is not possible.’

‘Then neither am I.’ Nova paused, fiddling with her hands looking him in the eye,

‘Why did you not say you were a half-elf?’

‘Would you have believed me,’ Nova snapped bitterly, her fingers gingerly running along the deep gash across her face.

He chuckled, nodding his head in agreement, indeed he would not have.

‘Can you believe, or trust now that I was not with those Hunters?’

Iorveth quirked a brow, ‘I would not have released from your bounds otherwise. I assume they were hunting you.’

Nova nodded.

‘Why?’

‘Hardly information you need to know. Besides what makes you think there is any other reason Radovid needs besides me being a half-elven, witcher.’

‘There is more. For you alone led them this far away from Novigrad’s walls. So you will talk.’

Nova glanced up into his eyes, turning to look out the tents opening calculating how far she could make it should she try and run.

‘You won’t get far.’ Nova heard the Scoia’tael commander from behind interrupting her thoughts, looking back into his eyes with a scowl.

‘Very well,’ Nova sighed knowing his was right, ‘I was seen making a deal with the sorceress, Triss Marigold here in Novigard. She got away, myself not so lucky. They took me back to Menge, claimed if I gave him the where abouts of Marigold, he’d give me the information I sought in Novigard.’

‘And what information would that be?’

‘I seek my father, for answers to all this,’ Nova said, pointing to all of her continuing as Iorveth nodded. ‘Thing this when held prisoner by Menge he took the only portrait I had of him, the only information, leads, I had jotted on the back, without it I have nothing. I’m at a dead end. You need to let me go, I…I must find him, find answers,’ She sighed, rubbing at her forehead, gritting her teeth trying to get this elf to see, to understand.’

‘I can’t let you leave these woods.’

‘Why! You must!’ She screamed, taking a step towards him flinging her hands down, angered by his decision. Flames shot from her hands before hitting the dirt, moss covered floor quickly dying away to embers.

‘I have released you from your bonds, you should expect nothing more. I cannot guarantee you will not sell my troops out to Radovid, in such you stay here. I will spare your life, but you will stay.’

Nova bent low to the ground, pawing for her chain replacing it upon her neck. ‘Very well…’ Nova agreed to the elf’s face. Vowing she’d find away, if he would not let her go. She’ll find her own way from his troops, find away from keeping him from tracking her as she runs. Whatever she had to do, she would. Anything. She had to find her father, to get answers. She needed proper training to control these signs better, more then the amulet allowed. To understand herself, what she was.

* * *

 

**Geralt**

‘You interrogated her, kept her as a prisoner.And you wonder why she runs, sells you out-’ Geralt bit out with a viciousness that would have turned anyones blood cold, his lip curling into a sneer.

‘Things changed by then, I grew to trust her as she did me. I offered her leave then, but with no way to find you, no leads she, in the end, decided to stay. What changed her mind, I cannot say. But, she betrayed me, betrayed the trust and safety I gave her.’ Iorveth defended himself, and his actions.

Geralt growled frustrated, though he now had a few leads here in Novigrad. She bore an enchanted amulet, one she got from Triss. He would find her, see what else he could learn. Check with Zoltan. Geralt nodded firmly to himself he had much to go on still, he would find her still, despite the odds.

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

**Geralt**

Geralt wandered through the dirty streets of Novigrad he had to seek Zoltan, splitting with Iorveth in the bits agreeing to meet up afterwards to seek out Veron Roche for information, he wandered almost lazily on his way all he could do was roll her name around in his head. Nova. Nova. It seemed to repeat it self over and over again.

‘Geralt!’ The gruff cry, cut through his thought.

‘Zoltan,’ Geralt greeted happily, slapping a hand down upon his shoulder.

‘Tell me what do I owe the honour?’

‘I seek one by the name of Nova, here in Novigrad,’ Geralt began, scratching his chin he continued slowly, ‘It’s a rather long story.’

‘I can only assume so, any one seeking her out doesn’t generally see the light of day much longer.’ Zoltan spoke turning on his heel leading Geralt into the The Chameleon where Dandelion awaited had been awaiting the dwarf, ‘Some Vodka, and you can explain, Dandelion is inside, come.’

‘Geralt!’ Dandelion greeted as the entered his taveren, ‘It is good to see you, old friend.’

Geralt nodded,clapping a hand down upon his shoulder, ‘It’s good to see you to.’ Dropping himself down at a nearby table Geralt threw back three shots before he began his tale.

‘So this Nova, is your daughter?’ Zoltan pushed on for information from the Witcher.

Geralt nodded.

‘I have no leads for you Geralt, though I fear you may be too late. I’ve caught word recently that the she-devil left town. Rode out about a week past.’

‘Damn it. She’s in danger, and every time I seem to find a lead its cut short.’

‘Starting to feel like searching for Ciri again, huh. I would know all too well.’ The bard spoke reminiscing to his time helping Ciri run from the temple guard.

Geralt sighed, dropping his forehead in his hand, ‘Indeed, and I have yet to find Ciri. All leads of Ciri fall flat here in Novigrad, Yennefer is seeking in Skellige, I am to meet her there soon, but I had to check the leads here for Nova, and yet…’

‘You’re torn.’

‘I want to find them both. Ciri’s my Destiny she’s the daughter Yennefer and I  raised and lost, Nova, she is my own flesh and blood, the daughter I never thought it possible to even have.’

‘Ahh, Geralt, we should seek out Triss Marigold, most wanted one of them in Novigrad got a bit of a reputation for helping those out casted.’

‘Iorveth said she always bore an amulet one that changed her appearance. Perhaps Triss, would know more or know the sorceress who helped her.’

Zoltan agreed.

  
Its seemed unlikely that Triss would know anything, still Geralt knew that he had to try no matter what. It was better then the unknown, to leave and regret it later. 

‘Yes, I have seen the picture in Kaer Morhen, but why come here, to me?’ If I’d ever seen her I’d find away to get word to you.  Triss asked, never turning around or breaking in her work.

‘I know, Triss, thing is I’ve learned new information. Turns out she spent some time with the Squirrels, had a sorceress conjure her an amulet to change her identify, also wondered the streets in a red cloak.’

Triss’ hands seized their movement at this piece of news, ‘It can’t be.’

‘Why do you know something,Triss if you know anything at all.’

Triss nodded her head, turning to look at Geralt fully, ‘Thing is I can confirm she left. To where, I do not know. She was here a week past needed a new amulet made, lost, stolen she claimed the other was. She paid me in to bags of gold and was gone the second the metal hit her hand.’

**Nova**

Nova slipped through the wooden door entering into the small hut that lay in the center of  the Bits, Iorveth stayed here when it was deemed necessary to stay within city walls, they stayed here together every now and then. Then, and never again. Her fist clenched, lips pulling into a thin as she gather the few remaining pieces of her own within the basement. How? How did she allow herself to get so close? She never should have let her guard down, perhaps Iorveth sending her away was for the best after all. Everything else she has ever had had been ripped away from her, why not him to.

She left the moment she had everything gathered making her way through the streets Nova kept the cloak pulled tight around her body, swerving through the throngs off people bustling in Novigrad's main square. Her body moved as quickly as her fingers did, nimbly dashing in and out of their pockets. Gathering their coin, and when she lay close enough to a back alleyway she breathed out in relief having not been caught she rushed her way the rest of the distance.

Knocking upon the sorceress door she waited anxiously, eyes casting weary looks left and right keeping an eye out for Witch Hunters, she held in the sigh of relief until the door creaked open and she was able to slip inside unseen and undetected. Nova, keeping her hood pulled tightly up spoke quickly. ‘I need a need a new amulet, Marigold.’

‘What happened to the last one I conjured for you…’ Triss began before trailing off, knowing who she was dealing with.

‘Lost it… or rather stolen. Needless it doesn’t matter I need one and I have the coin.’ Nova snapped bitterly, wanting to get out of her as quickly as possible if her plan went well she hoped to be seeing the back of Novigrad be nightfall. Nova pulled out a two full coin purses dropping them on the table.

‘This is more then we’d agreed on, by a whole bag,’ Triss said, narrowing her eyebrows with suspicions, ‘Where did you get this much coin?’  
‘It matters little, what matters is I have it. The extra bag, consider it a thank you, for everything, more than you’ll ever know.’

Triss recoiled, shocked.

Catching the shocked look upon her face, Nova nodded her head getting to the matter at hand. ‘Now about that amulet.’

As Triss finished, she reached out her hand feeling the cool metal against the warmth of her hand sweaty from clenching her fist tightly, pacing the whole time.

Nova spun closing another door behind her for good, looking east with a deep breath she squared back her shoulders knowing she most likely walked towards her own death, still her eyes laid east on Menge’s Corridors.

Triss had nodded getting right to work, silently wondering who lay behind the cloak the whole time, not once in any of their meetings had she let it slip all she got was a name, Nova. She watched with curious eyes as the mysterious woman paced back and forth anxiously, watching as she continuously tugged the hood further up every time it slid the slightest.

‘Rumours say Mennge was seen south-east of here, do you know anything that can confirm?’ The words sliced through the silence, catching Marigold off guard.

‘I cannot confirm for sure. However, a hanging or two are to take place at high noon so-’

‘Good. The amulet is it done?’

Triss recoiled at her obvious gladness of the hangings, handing the amulet over her hand snatched it, spinning on her heels she was gone slamming the door behind her.

  
**Geralt**

Geralt ground his teeth together, ‘What is after her? Who? Why does she run so?’

‘Well now, you see, Geralt, if one could have such answers we’d all be doing better. In fact-’

‘Dandelion, now is not the time!’ Geralt said, casting a side eye his way before looking out the window.

‘You don’t think she actually went after Menge?’ Triss spoke with worry for her dear friend’s daughter.

‘No one would with half a brain would willingly head to his quarters, surely.’ Dandelion said.

‘What other choice did she have?’ Geralt spoke pacing back and forth, there was no one left, no one except Menge himself that would hold any information. Grinding his teeth knowing he wouldn’t receive anything from a man such as him. He’d found himself at another dead end.

A scream echoed around them from outside, followed by the cries and screams of dozens. ‘What’s going on out there?’

Geralt ignored the questions as he rushed outside into the streets, looking over the heads of the citizens that poured into the streets at the far end, near the center square were two heavily armed Witch Hunters dragging and chestnut hair girl between the a red hooded cloak sliding down her shoulders.

  
‘

 


End file.
